Changing Seasons
by Coru
Summary: A different proposal is accepted that fateful day, and lives are changed forever. Updated with chapter five!
1. Welcome To The Family

I own diddlysquat. The characters (with the exception of the children I made up) are entirely Margaret Mitchell's. This twist on the original storyline is mine. Some quotes/passages have been blatantly ripped off from the classic movie and book Gone With The Wind.  
  
Scarlett pounded her clenched fists against the tall white pillar beside her, and wished that she were Samson, so that she could pull down all of Twelve Oaks and destroy every person in it. She'd make them sorry. She'd show them. She didn't see quite how she'd show them, but she'd do it all the same. She'd hurt them worse than they'd hurt her.  
  
For the moment, Ashley as Ashley was forgotten. He was not the tall, drowsy boy she loved but part and parcel of the Wilkses, Twelve Oaks, the County- and she hated them all because they laughed. Vanity was stronger than love at sixteen and there was no room in her hot heart now for anything but hate.  
  
'I won't go home,' she thought. 'I'll stay here and I'll make them sorry. And I'll never tell Mother. No, I'll never tell anybody.' She braced herself to go back in the house, to reclimb the stairs and go into another bedroom.  
  
As she turned, she saw Stuart, grinning and laughing with excitement when he spotted her. "Scarlett!" He shouted, waving his arms and trying to get her attention. He ran across the foyer of Twelve Oaks, laughing and grinning. "See honey, I told you there'd be a war!"  
  
"Oh bother the war!" Scarlett snapped. "Don't you think of anything else?"  
  
"But Lincoln's called for soldiers honey!" Stu exclaimed, his eyes dancing. "We're all goin' off to enlist!" Suddenly he noticed how pale she was, and her brightly wild her eyes were. "Here honey, are you alright? Come here, to one of the benches." He took her hand and helped her sit gently. "You'll miss us, won't you sweetheart?" Stuart said suddenly, stroking her hair.  
  
"Of course." She whispered, her mind a-whirl with sudden plans. 'Fairhill is a good plantation. If I married him right away, it would show Ashley that I didn't care a rap -that I was only flirting with him. And it would just kill India. Not to mention it would just drive Hetty wild!'  
  
Stu lifted her hand and kissed it gently. "Honey I can't go without sayin' it again. I love you. Will you wait for me?"  
  
"No...I-I don't want to wait." Her eyes locked on his with startling intensity. "I want to get married as soon as possible."  
  
His eyes widened. "Really? You mean-" She nodded again. "Yeehoo!" He picked her up and spun her around. His smile only got wider. "I'll talk to your Pa right away." He leaned over and kissed her. "You've made me happier than ever in my life Scarlett." With that he dashed back inside in search of Scarlett's father.  
  
Scarlett's eyes filled with tears but she blinked them away forcefully. "Damn you Ashley. I'll never let anyone hurt me like this again." She thought forcefully. "Never."  
  
Within two weeks Scarlett O'Hara became a Tarleton. Though she spent the first days of her marriage in her husband's home at Fairhill, she returned to Tara as soon as he left. Life was dismal in the county, now that the boys were gone and she'd gotten herself married. "Married, me!" The thought filled her with more amazement every time it crossed her mind. Though the amazement was inevitably replaced with despair when she recalled it was not Ashley who's return she was waiting for, but Stu.  
  
Nine months to the day from Stu's departure, she became a mother, twice. The day that Laurel and Amethyst Tarleton were born was grey and dreary, as Januarys in Georgia tend to be. But for all that it was the happiest day in the memories of both the O'Haras and the Tarletons. The oldest Tarleton son even found his way to Tara, to wish his nieces a fond welcome. Scarlett had the babies with so little fuss and recovered so quickly and thoroughly that Mammy declared it was wasn't 'fittin' for a lady to have a child and not stay in bedrest for at least a month.  
  
Despite Gerald's wish for his first grandchild to be a boy, he was intensely pleased with and proud of his green-eyed granddaughters, and said so whenever anyone complimented either of them.  
  
The first week of Motherhood was very odd for Scarlett, as she found herself responsible for the very existence of two tiny beings. In those first seven days, and the months to follow, Scarlett's character was forever changed. For exactly seven days after her birth, Laurel died in her sleep.  
  
Ellen watched over the next few weeks as Scarlett grew listless, the loss of her child weighing heavily on her. She barely slept, spending her nights in Amethyst's room, watching the infant for any sign of illness. Finally, six weeks after the births of her grandchildren she consulted Dr. Fontaine. His reply did nothing to ease her fears however; warning her that Scarlett was on the road to an early grave herself, should she continue this self- destructive pattern.  
  
It was then that Ellen began sending Scarlett away, first to Charleston to stay with her sisters there. But in less than a month her child and grandchild had returned, Scarlett thinner and paler than before. She tried sending her to the Tarleton's family in Augusta, and to her family in Savannah and Charleston, but Scarlett never stayed more than a few weeks and continued to return home in poorer health than she'd left.  
  
It was with a heavy heart she wrote to Melanie Wilkes, she and her Aunt Pittypat had been writing for months, begging Scarlett to come stay with them in Atlanta. If Scarlett returned quickly, again weak and miserable, then...Ellen simply didn't know what to do, if that happened. But she was hopeful; a spark of life had entered her daughter's sad green eyes when she mentioned Atlanta and Melanie. Perhaps...yes, perhaps Atlanta was the best place for Ellen's oldest daughter.  
  
Scarlett looked over her shoulder for the dozenth time since she'd stepped off the train platform. "You be careful with that baby!" She ordered once again.  
  
Prissy nodded glumly. "Yas'm. Ah's got huh." She continued picking her way through the red mud, trying not to get her feet too dirty, while trying to see everything in Atlanta at once. She only had to stumble once before Scarlett snatched the baby from her arms and shoved her satchel at her instead. Finally Scarlett lost her patience with dirtying her shoes and sped up her pace, not caring if Prissy's shorter legs could keep up.  
  
"Hurry up!" She snapped, looking over her shoulder again. She looked ahead and spotted Miss Pitty's coachman-she couldn't remember his name but they'd come to her wedding. She shook her head to clear the thought and approached.  
  
"You's Miz Scarlett?" The frail-looking old darky asked, looking her up and down.  
  
"I am." Scarlett dimpled. "You're Miss Pittypat's coachman, aren't you?"  
  
"Ah sho is. Ah's Uncle Peter. Miz Pitty din' come. She an' Miz Melly in a state cuz dey din' come ter meet yo' train, but Ah said ter dem, de mud jus' get dey new dresses all covered in muck and den dey'd be runned fo' dey gets to war dem an'where. An' Ah tole dem Ah'll 'splain ter Miz Scarlett 'bout de mud an' tek her back home."  
  
"That's all right Uncle Peter." Scarlett replied, inwardly annoyed that he hadn't done something so she didn't have to walk in the mud. She climbed up in the coach and glared at Prissy. "Get up here you fool!" She barked. The young slave started and clambered up next to Uncle Peter, trying to mimic the old man's dignified manner.  
  
It seemed that during the drive back, they stopped at every house between the train and Miss Pittypat's home. Everyone was dying to see how much Ellen Robillard's oldest had changed since her marriage, and it seemed as though Miss Pitty had told the entire town that she was coming. Scarlett found herself propping Amethyst up every five minutes, telling everyone how old she was and hearing endless sympathy from those who knew about Laurel. She didn't mind the fawning, but the sympathy made her angry and irritated. She wanted to forget about it, couldn't they see that?  
  
Despite the irritation that seemed to grow with every stop, Scarlett felt a deep thrill to be back in Atlanta. The little town had grown by leaps and bounds since the war began, and it seemed to be humming with vigor and excitement. Suddenly she felt a mad desire to jump up in the carriage, throw her arms in the air and shout for joy. However, she contented herself with smiling so dazzlingly that a well-clothed man across the street stopped and took notice of her. His eyes lit with recognition and he laughed aloud before continuing on his way to the train station-after all, he was a busy man. And knowing that particular young lady, he would see her again when he returned.  
  
Over the next few weeks Scarlett's naturally robust health returned. The spirit and vivacity of the city brought a spark of life back to her heart. Despite being a member of two hospital committees and numerous sewing and knitting circles, Scarlett found herself enjoying life in Atlanta more and more as days went by. She spent four mornings a week at the hospital and most five afternoons in various knitting, sewing, and musical circles. There were parties every week. Though her enjoyment of them was dulled by the fact that she couldn't dance nearly as much as she wanted, instead being forced into the role of a stately matron. Frequently she cursed herself for marrying when there was a war going on, when she could have been the belle of Atlanta, surrounded by beaux from all over the south!  
  
But still, by far it beat out the County, where she nearly went mad with boredom. And here there were so many people who hadn't seen Amethyst. There were enough compliments about her daughter to keep Scarlett happy, and enough people to take care of her that she rarely had to do anything. Melanie openly adored the infant and never failed to say so, even in Amy's worst screaming fits she would cry, "Oh you precious darling I wish you were mine!"  
  
Overall, life seemed to go by in a pleasant blur, and before she knew it, Scarlett had been in Atlanta for over a month.  
  
Every woman on either side of the war dreaded the arrival of a telegram. Union or Confederate, the all had someone, a son, a brother, a husband, a dear friend or a sweetheart at the front. Night and day they prayed for their men. Women who had never feared anything in their lives, and never had anything to fear, were terrified of losing the men they loved.  
  
In the Hamilton household, three women stared at a telegram with fear in their eyes. Melanie held Scarlett's hand tightly and for once Pittypat found the situation too serious to swoon.  
  
"I will read it." Scarlett said aloud, watching the telegram as if it were a snake poised to strike. She bit her lip and bravely opened the letter.  
  
Coming home stop Brent and I wounded stop not bad stop arriving Thursday noon train stop Love Stu stop  
  
"He's wounded. He's coming home." Scarlett said blankly, relief and dismay overpowering all other emotions. "He'll be here tomorrow." She smiled with a sudden childish delight. "He's coming home! He'll finally get to meet Amy!" Her face lit up and she started dancing around the room, already planning on showing off her brave soldier husband.  
  
Scarlett paced anxiously in the parlor. "Sometimes Uncle Peter drives me insane!" She complained to Melanie. "I wanted to meet my husband's train, is that so terrible?"  
  
"Uncle Peter just didn't want you to get ill in the rain Scarlett." Melanie soothed. "Now, I'll go wake Amethyst." She patted Scarlett's hand and ascended the stairs.  
  
The door opened and Scarlett raced to the hall. "Stu! Brent!" She cried out, hugging Brent first then wrapping her arms around Stu and not letting go. "Oh I'm so glad you're alright!" She pulled back slightly and looked at them. "Good Lord, can't the army even feed you any more? You look half- starved!" She exclaimed. "Come on, into the parlor. Sit." She pulled them along and forced them onto the sofa and sat opposite them in a chair. "How are you? The wounds aren't serious are they? You'll be alright?" They barely had a chance to nod before she was off on a new line of questioning. "How are all the boys? You're still in the same regiment aren't you? Tell me all about everyone. The Calvert boys and the Munroes and the Fontaines. And Ashley too."  
  
"Everyone's fine." Brent patted her hand. "Don't you worry Scarlett, we're the only ones fool enough to get injured." He laughed. "Ashley wanted us to send a message to Miss Melanie though."  
  
"Oh?" Scarlett's tone chilled ever-so-slightly. "I'll fetch her so you can give it." She stood and went the parlor door. "Melly?" She called. "Come down."  
  
Melanie appeared at the top of the stairs, Amy cooing happily in her arms. "I heard them come in, I didn't want to disturb you." She explained shyly.  
  
"They've got a message from Ashley." Scarlett pursed her lips. "Bring Amy down too." She added. She turned and went back into the parlor, pushing down the ache that suddenly appeared in her heart crying 'Ashley!'.  
  
"Mr. Tarleton, I'm pleased to see you again." Melanie greeted softly, carrying Amethyst to her parents. "And I'm certain you'll be pleased to meet your beautiful, beautiful daughter." Scarlett scooped the baby out of Melanie's arms and held her up for Stu's approval.  
  
"So Stu, what do you think?" Scarlett asked, her eyes bright with pride.  
  
Stu stared at the image in front of him. One he had never expected to see, despite all his bragging before the war. His wife, Scarlett O'Hara Tarleton was smiling at him and holding his baby. "Honey, I think the picture of you two is going to keep me going for the rest of the war." Stu declared; looking happier than his brothers had seen him since the war broke out. He leaned over and kissed her forehead before admiring Amethyst. "Why she's got your eyes Scarlett. And the Tarleton hair." He laughed, touching one of her tiny curls. "She looks just like Ma."  
  
Scarlett's lips curved into a smile. "I hope she's as good a horsewoman too. Wouldn't that please Pa!" She giggled, planning out her child's future already.  
  
Brent grinned across the couch at his sister-in-law while admiring his niece. "You know, it's awful good to see you again honey. How have you been? And how's everyone at Tara?"  
  
"Oh, everything's fine Brent!" Scarlett replied merrily. "Of course, money is tight from the war but soon it'll all be over and everything will be as it was." She flashed a false smile with her lie. The boys exchanged looks and Stu smiled uneasily.  
  
"Of course honey." He patted her hand and changed the subject back to his daughter. "She really is the sweetest baby ever born." He decreed. "Look Brent, you haven't got a good look at her."  
  
The unmarried Tarleton twin grinned and leaned over. "She looks too much like Ma, I expect her to get out a riding crop and beat us any minute." He laughed.  
  
Scarlett giggled. "And I'm sure you deserve it for something." She replied teasingly. "But you really like her?" Scarlett asked hopefully. "She's such a darling. She's very tired now, but once she's taken her nap I'm sure you'll all love her."  
  
"We already love her honey." Stu replied, grinning. "I bet I'll have to keep a shotgun out when her beaux start coming around."  
  
Scarlett laughed lightly. "Yes, she'll be the belle of the County and Atlanta. She'll have more beaux than any other girl in Georgia! Yes, my little Amethyst will be the most beautiful girl in the South." Scarlett's eyes danced at the thought. Two generations of O'Hara belles! Yes, Amy would make her very proud indeed.  
  
"She most certainly will." Melanie smiled at the redheaded baby. "Everyone just adores her already."  
  
Brent grinned. "I bet they do!" He started. "Oh, Miss Melanie, we clean forgot! Ashley sent a message for you."  
  
Melanie's heart-shaped face lit up. "He's alright isn't he?" She asked anxiously. Worry landed in Scarlett's heart, draining the color from her face.  
  
"Oh yes ma'am. He's better than we are at the moment!" Stu laughed. "He just wanted us to tell you he misses you, and he's applied for a furlough. Though who knows whether he'll get one, they're getting scarcer and scarcer all the time."  
  
Melanie beamed. "He'll get one. I'm certain of it. And he'll come home to me, even if just for a few days."  
  
To Scarlett it seemed as if all the joy had been sucked out of the day and all the color had drained into Melanie's shining face.  
  
Scarlett tapped her feet behind the table and pouted, wishing desperately that Stu would stop talking to the other boys home from war and dance with her. After all, he hadn't danced with her in months-since before Amy was born even! 'Before Laurel died.' A cruel little voice added. She forcibly pushed that thought from her mind and smiled enticingly at the young men nearby.  
  
"Buy a pillowcase?" She asked sweetly, holding one out. "For the Cause." The men-boys really- grinned shyly and bought two each. "How generous! I'm sure your mother or sweetheart will love them." They nodded bashfully and left with ears tinted pink.  
  
Scarlett sighed and pouted again. "Oh won't he stop blabbing about the war?" She wondered aloud, glaring holes into her wounded husband's head. Melanie gave her an odd look and Scarlett wiped her unhappy expression away. "Never mind Melly." She said quickly, earning her another odd look but luckily no conversation. She really couldn't handle polite conversation with Ashley's wife when her own husband was ignoring her!  
  
Then the music broke into the rollicking strains of "Johnny Booker, he'p dis Nigger!" and Scarlett thought she would scream. She wanted to dance. She looked across the floor and tapped her foot to the music and her green eyes blazed so eagerly that they fairly snapped. All the way across the floor, a man, newly come and standing in the doorway, saw them and watched closely the slanting eyes in the sulky, rebellious face. Then he grinned to himself as he recognized the invitation that any male could read.  
  
He had an air of utter assurance, of displeasing insolence about him, and there was a twinkle of malice in his bold eyes as he stared at Scarlett, until finally, feeling his gaze, she looked toward him.  
  
Somewhere in her mind, the bell of recognition rang, but for the moment she could not recall who he was. And as her husband was decidedly ignoring her and no one else had paid her any attention tonight, she threw him a gay smile. She made a little curtsy as he bowed, and then, as he straightened and started toward her with a peculiarly lithe Indian-like gait, her hand went to her mouth in horror, for she knew who he was.  
  
Thunderstruck, she stood as if paralyzed while he made his way through the crowd. Then she turned blindly, bent on flight into the refreshment rooms, but her skirt caught on a nail of the booth. She jerked furiously at it, tearing it and, in an instant, he was beside her.  
  
"Permit me," he said bending over and disentangling the flounce. "I hardly hoped that you would recall me, Miss O'Hara."  
  
At the sound of his voice, Melanie turned and for the first time in her life Scarlett thanked God for the existence of Ashley's wife.  
  
"Why-it's-it's Mr. Rhett Butler, isn't it?" said Melanie with a little smile, putting out her hand. "I met you-"  
  
"On the happy occasion of the announcement of your betrothal," he finished, bending over her hand. "It is kind of you to recall me."  
  
"And what are you doing so far from Charleston, Mr. Butler?"  
  
"A boring matter of business, Mrs. Wilkes. I will be in and out of your town from now on. I find I must not only bring in goods but see to the disposal of them."  
  
"Bring in--" began Melly, her brow wrinkling, and then she broke into a delighted smile. "Why, you--you must be the famous Captain Butler we've been hearing so much about--the blockade runner. Why, every girl here is wearing dresses you brought in. Scarlett, aren't you thrilled--what's the matter, dear? Are you faint? Do sit down."  
  
Scarlett sank to the stool, her breath coming so rapidly she feared the lacings of her stays would burst. Oh, what a terrible thing to happen! She had never thought to meet this man again, this awful man who knew what she held in her heart.  
  
"It is quite warm in here," he said. "No wonder Miss O'Hara is faint. May I lead you to a window?"  
  
"No," said Scarlett, so rudely that Melly stared.  
  
"She is not Miss O'Hara any longer," said Melly with one of her fond little glances. "She's Mrs. Tarleton. She's come to live with my aunt and I here in Atlanta. She's such a comfort to us now, she's so brave and with Charlie gone-" her voice broke. Scarlett bit her lip and patted Melanie's back. She looked at the impudent visitor, her eyes pleading with him to change the subject before Melanie started crying.  
  
"Your husbands are here tonight, I trust, on this happy occasion? It would be a pleasure to renew acquaintances."  
  
"My husband is in Virginia," said Melly with a proud lift of her head, forcing her brother's memory from her mind. "However, Mr. Tarleton is here." She raised her hand and gestured to the cluster of young soldiers.  
  
Scarlett nodded, frowning in their general direction. "He and his brother were wounded, so they've come home."  
  
"I hope the injuries were not serious, they'll surely be needed back at the front with the rest of our brave lads in gray." The words seemed polite and proper, but again something in his manner gave Scarlett the feel she was being made fun of.  
  
"No, not serious. They'll be perfectly healthy soon enough. My husband was shot in the knee, and his brother got a minie ball through the shoulder. He was mentioned in the dispatches for bravery." She added proudly, pleased in an odd way. Once a man had been her beau she forever believed he belonged to her, and that all his good deeds reflected favorably upon her. A customer approached Melanie's booth and she scampered off with a smile.  
  
"How remarkable." The Butler creature said pleasantly, his face placidly interested while his eyes mocked her. "You must be very proud to have such a gallant brother-in-law."  
  
She checked her tongue and started straightening the pillowcases. "Why yes I am Captain Butler. We're all very proud of Brent." She replied sweetly, deliberately misinterpreting his jibe. He laughed aloud and leaned forward.  
  
"Why don't you say what you really think?" He demanded, lowering his voice so that in the clatter and excitement of the collection, it came only to her ears. "Why don't you say I'm a damned rascal and no gentleman and that I must take myself off or you'll have that husband of yours call me out?"  
  
"Because I can only assume that you already know all those things." Scarlett replied, looking up and grinning impishly. "And besides, even if you are a rascal, it's annoying all the girls to no end that you're standing here talking to me instead of dancing with them. That alone is worth at least a dozen more of your insults."  
  
He laughed heartily and leaned against the counter. "You are a unique young woman Miss O'Hara!" He said admiringly. "And you're very, very Irish." He added, amusement lacing his words.  
  
Scarlett giggled. "Ach, 'tis true." She said, aping her father's brogue. "Was me own Pa not come over from the green isle himself?"  
  
"Oh yes, that thick-headed little Irishman was your father." He commented idly, watching her reaction. "I'd forgotten."  
  
Scarlett's slanting green eyes flashed and she stopped smiling. "When I said it was good for another dozen insults, I meant against me. If you want to insult my Pa, you'd best leave because I'll have none of it."  
  
"Of course Mrs. Tarleton." He raised an eyebrow and examined her expression. "I find myself apologizing, which I rarely do. Even a scamp like me should know not to insult the father of an obvious daddy's girl like you."  
  
"Oh I wish you'd stop making comments like that!" complained Scarlett. "I can't figure out if you're insulting me, complimenting me or just plain stating a fact!"  
  
"Perhaps a combination of all three?" He laughed at her childish anger and picked up a pillowcase. "Here, let me make amends." He gave her a handful of coins-much more than it was worth.  
  
"Captain Butler, this is fifty dollars! In gold!" Scarlett said, gaping at the coins in her hand.  
  
"Well aware of it Mrs. Tarleton. Perhaps seeing all these brave lads in gray brought out the patriot in me." He smirked at her.  
  
"Well, I'm sure the hospital thanks you." replied Scarlett, a sarcastic smile twisting her face. "You're so very generous."  
  
Once again he laughed at her, and tipping his hat went about his business, leaving Scarlett both confused and annoyed. She was further irritated a few minutes later when she had to give up her favorite necklace and earbobs to that little Zouave and his collection basket. For a moment she envied Melanie, who's mourning prevented her from wearing any jewelry to give.  
  
However, what really made her angry, was Dr. Meade's auction for the leading of the reel. Once upon a time she would have led every one of those reels, and every unmarried man would be bidding for her. Instead she was an old matron, forced to sit behind a booth and enjoy nothing.  
  
In summation, she was not happy.  
  
She narrowed her eyes when Maybelle Merriwether was the first bid, and the prices began to rise. 'Why-they would have paid twice that much for me!' She thought indignantly. For a moment she imagined she was unmarried again, in an apple-green dress with dark green velvet ribbons, and all the young soldiers in Atlanta were bidding for her.  
  
She scowled, realizing it would never happen again. She saw Rhett Butler standing just below the doctor and, before she could change the expression of her face, he saw her and one corner of his mouth went down and one eyebrow went up. She jerked her chin up and turned away from him and suddenly she heard her own name called-called in an unmistakable Charleston voice that rang out above the hubbub of other names.  
  
"Mrs. Stuart Tarleton-one hundred and fifty dollars-in gold."  
  
A sudden hush fell on the crowd both at the mention of the sum and at the name. Scarlett was so startled she could not even move. She remained sitting with her chin in her hands, her eyes wide with astonishment. Everybody turned to look at her-with the single exception of a redheaded young man who stared at the bidder, anger in his eyes. Dr. Meade leaned down and whispered something to Rhett Butler, most likely that she was married and could not lead the reel with anyone but her husband. Rhett shrugged lazily.  
  
"Another of our belles perhaps?"  
  
"No, Mrs. Tarleton."  
  
"She will not-"  
  
A voice rang out, which at first Scarlett did not recognize as her own. "Yes I will!" She exited the booth and hurried to Stu with an explanation on her tongue and a pout on her lips. "It's for the hospital you know, and we need money badly. And since you can't dance and I love it so...be good and let me?" She asked, widening her eyes innocently and tugging on his jacket.  
  
Her husband scowled blackly at Captain Butler, but nodded. "Alright honey." He muttered. "Go on ahead." She hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Thank you!" Scarlett hurried off and then she was on the floor and Rhett Butler was advancing toward her through the aisle of the crowd, that nasty mocking smile on his face. But she didn't care--didn't care if he were Abe Lincoln himself! She was going to dance again. She was going to lead the reel. She swept him a low curtsy and a dazzling smile and he bowed, one hand on his frilled bosom. Levi, horrified, was quick to cover the situation and bawled: "Choose yo' padners fo' de Ferginny reel!"  
  
And the orchestra crashed into that best of all reel tunes, "Dixie."  
  
"You've made me very conspicuous Captain Butler."  
  
"My dear, you wanted to be conspicuous. I was merely doing my part to keep a fine matron like yourself happy."  
  
"You're impossible." Scarlett laughed, unable to be angry while dancing, when it had been so long since she was able to dance with anyone who didn't step on her toes.  
  
"Yes, I am." He smirked at her. "This is the last part of the reel isn't it?"  
  
"Yes. I really must sit down now."  
  
"Why, are you tired?"  
  
"No, but..."  
  
"Then dance the waltz with me."  
  
"Everyone would talk! And Stu would get mad-see he's already upset with me." She tilted her head in her husband's direction.  
  
"Do you really care what your husband thinks?"  
  
"Of course I do!" But she danced the waltz with him, as well as the next reel. Many different young men claimed her for many other dances that night, to her husband's ire and Rhett Butler's amusement. And for the first time in months Scarlett truly enjoyed herself, heedless of the consequences.  
  
To Be Continued.... 


	2. Always Room In Our House

I own diddlysquat. The characters (with the exception of the children I made up) are entirely Margaret Mitchell's. This twist on the original storyline is mine. Some quotes/passages have been blatantly ripped off from the classic movie and book Gone With The Wind.  
  
(Short chapter, I wanted to get the second one out. I hate when people leave stories at just one chapter...)  
  
But the consequences for her night of freedom came, a very angry fight with her husband among them. But worst of all was the disapproval she received from Ellen when they went to the County a few days after the bazaar. Her gentle disappointment hurt more than any amount of ranting and raving from Stu ever could.  
  
But people soon forgot about her indiscretion, after all it was only one night. And for a few weeks Scarlett experienced life as a wife. Though perhaps not as unpleasant as it might have been, she found herself longing for Atlanta and freedom. Life at Fairhill was oppressive. All six of Stu's remaining siblings were at home, and all of them wanted to hear about Atlanta and everyone there.  
  
And perhaps more annoying than anything, she had to watch Carreen flutter about Brent-as if he'd given her a second glance before Scarlett got married! Though the idea annoyed her, she decided she'd rather have Carreen married to one of her old beaux than some man from God knows where, as so many young girls were doing. After all, Carreen was her favorite sister. Suellen could marry as she pleased -preferably to someone who would take her far away- but Scarlett wanted her baby sister to do well.  
  
Stu hardly spoke to her-although, he didn't find a fight any reason not to share her bed-generally spending his time around his mother and sisters, walking around Fairhill or visiting neighbors in the county. He brought Amy along occasionally -showing her off like a prize horse!- so Scarlett thought with indignation. The fact that she had done much the same thing in Atlanta never occurred to her.  
  
Staying at Fairhill was hard. She wanted to be a Tara-oh, but she wanted to be at Tara! Now more than ever she realized how she loved the green fields and red earth of that dear plantation. Being so close, but forced into being a visitor! Oh it was unbearable. She began walking the grounds of Fairhill, pretending she was a girl again, just walking the lands as she had done so often before the War. A hard, throbbing pain filled her heart as she looked over the hill to Tara.  
  
"I'm leaving in less than a week." Stu's voice from behind startled her, and she almost tumbled before he caught her.  
  
"Um, yes." She straightened up and smoothed her skirts. "And I'll go back to Atlanta." Her heart screamed against it, she wanted this visit to be at Tara! But she'd promised Melanie.  
  
"Will we still be fighting when I go back to war?"  
  
"I am not the one fighting." Scarlett raised a swooping black eyebrow. "You, Stuart Tarleton, are the one who refuses to be sensible. So I enjoyed myself. On your next furlough when you're healed I'll dance with you."  
  
Stu shook his head and sighed. A small grin crept across his face. "You're one hell of a woman Scarlett. You never do what I expect."  
  
"Would you want to be married to someone predictable?" Scarlett asked flippantly. "It's so much more fun this way."  
  
Stu reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I think I'm pretty damned happy with you."  
  
Scarlett nodded decisively. "Good. Because I wouldn't take too well to you trying to find a new wife."  
  
He laughed loudly. "I imagine not." He grinned at her and pulled her to him. "I'm glad we're not fightin' anymore honey." He lifted her chin. "Now, give me a smile?" She obliged, flashing one of her most dazzling smiles. His breath caught and he kissed her, holding her tightly.  
  
A brief thought occurred to Scarlett. 'Perhaps being married isn't as bad as I thought!' Before her arms wrapped around Stu's neck, and she stopped thinking.  
  
Three days later they went to Atlanta, and two days after that Stu returned to the army. Scarlett was much more upset than she expected herself to be, and it truly puzzled her. After all, she was fond of Stu but she didn't love him. She loved Ashley.  
  
Didn't she?  
  
To Be Continued.... 


	3. It All Comes Crashing Down

I still own diddlysquat. The characters (with the exception of the children I've made up) are entirely Margaret Mitchell's. This twist on the original storyline is mine. Some quotes/passages have been blatantly ripped off from the classic movie and book Gone With The Wind.  
  
  
  
The months passed and Scarlett's confusion lessened. Slowly the memory of Stu, and whatever feelings he might have evoked faded. She forced the thoughts from her mind, content to know she loved Ashley and ignore everything else.  
  
And while the war raged on in Virginia and Pennsylvania, taking the men she loved, she really lacked for very little. The important things she could get, and the unimportant things that no one could get, well, she got those from Rhett Butler.  
  
He became a frequent caller at the home of Miss Pittypat Hamilton, and when in town was always invited to dinner at least once a week. He insulted Scarlett regularly, and at least half his visits ended with him being ordered out of her sight. But he would return with chocolate or some of other sweet gift and she would forget his transgressions-until the next one.  
  
"Oh Rhett, you're too good to be true!" Scarlett cried, admiring the simply sweet bonnet he'd set at her side. "The darling thing. It's really for me?"  
  
"Yes, I saw it and knew none other but Scarlett O'Hara could properly wear that bonnet." Rhett smirked.  
  
"Oh, but I really can't accept it Rhett. You really shouldn't give me so many gifts, though it is kind of you."  
  
"I'm not kind, I'm just tempting you. I never do anything unless it'll benefit me in the long run." He put out his cigar and stood, smirking at her. "And I always get paid."  
  
"Well I don't know what you think I'll give you for it." Scarlett replied, putting her hands on her hips and staring at him, an inquiring look on her face. He crossed the room and stared down at her, a queer gleam in his eye.  
  
"You don't?" He asked quietly, smirking at her.  
  
"You mustn't-don't stand so close Rhett." Scarlett, suddenly breathless whispered, dropping her arms to her sides and backing into the mantle just behind her. "It...isn't proper."  
  
"And your point my dear?" Rhett replied softly, staring intently into her eyes.  
  
Scarlett looked away from his prying eyes and weakly tried to push him back. "Please Rhett, if someone should walk in they'd think..."  
  
Rhett smirked at her and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes again. "I know exactly what they'd think my dear." He wound his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Scarlett unconsciously tilted her head up, but his piercing gaze was magnetic, she couldn't look away or close her eyes. He captured her mouth with his own and Scarlett felt suddenly faint. After an endless moment he pulled away, still watching her with that odd glow. Scarlett gaped at him, shock written across her face. Without conscious thought her hand rose and she slapped him with all her might.  
  
"Get out, you cad!" Scarlett ordered. "Get out of this house this instant!"  
  
He smirked and bowed mockingly. "Of course. Good afternoon Mrs. Tarleton." He picked up his hat and left quickly.  
  
Scarlett lifted a finger to her lips and was overcome with shame. "Oh I can't think about it now. I'll think about it tomorrow." She declared aloud, forcibly turning her thoughts to more pleasant subjects. Despite herself she smiled when she realized she was still wearing the bonnet. She admired herself in the mirror over the mantle and forgot all about Rhett Butler-for the moment.  
  
In March of 1863, Scarlett went home to Tara for a short visit. She had several new dresses with her, and a thoroughly pleased air about her. After getting over her possessiveness, she had pushed Brent at Carreen, and vice versa. Now, she was coming home for her baby sister's wedding.  
  
"To think! The Tarleton twins both marrying O'Hara girls!" Scarlett laughed and patted Stu's arm. "I must say, Brent's awful lucky, getting a good girl like Carreen."  
  
Stu grinned and tightened his arm around her waist. "Just like I was awful lucky, getting the most beautiful girl in Georgia." She threw him a gay smile and his breath caught-he wondered again what he had down for God to smile down on him, and give him this beautiful creature as his wife.  
  
Scarlett preened inwardly under Stu's adoring gaze. Outwardly she appeared just as modest and unassuming as a matron and mother should be. "Aw, you're too sweet Stu." She blushed with false modesty. "Hurry now, I think I see Pa." She pulled away from her husband and pushed through the crowds. "Pa!" She called, waving.  
  
"Katie Scarlett!" Gerald called out, pushing his way to her side. He embraced her immediately, happy to have his little girl by his side again. "My Katie Scarlett! You've been from home for too long child." He chided. "Now where's my little grandchild?" He demanded.  
  
Scarlett laughed and waved Prissy over. "Here's my darling Pa. Hasn't she grown?" Scarlett asked proudly, watching as Prissy led Amy over, the toddler's short chubby leg's trying to keep up with the much older and taller girl.  
  
"Me no walk!" Amy cried suddenly, halting. "Priss carry!"  
  
Prissy tried to pull her further-her arms were already laden with packages- but Scarlett's deadly glare pulled her up short and she picked up her small mistress. Scarlett took the child from her arms when she came closer and all traces of hardness vanished from her face.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't she Pa?" Scarlett asked merrily.  
  
Gerald scooped up his grand-baby and tossed her in the air. Amy screamed delightedly and begged for him to throw her higher.  
  
"No!" Scarlett said quickly. "No higher Pa." She repeated more quietly. "We should be going. Everyone's staring." She added, looking around the station.  
  
"Let them stare! Have they never seen a man and his granddaughter before?" Gerald demanded. "But you're right, we'd best hurry home. Let's get your bags, your Mother is anxious to see you." Scarlett's face lit up and she nodded eagerly.  
  
"Oh yes, let's hurry. I've missed everyone so much!" Scarlett smiled dreamily as they hopped into Gerald's buggy. "I haven't been home in over six months!"  
  
Stu laughed and hugged her. "I'm glad you got the opportunity honey. I haven't been back here in...almost a year."  
  
"And you've been missed, to be sure!" Gerald boomed, playing with Amy's red curls. "Your poor mother's been nearly beside herself, with near all her horses gone and you boys at war."  
  
Stu laughed. "Yeah, she's got no one to boss now!"  
  
"And no one to lick." Scarlett added, giggling. Stu feigned an injured look, which only made Scarlett laugh all the harder. "Stu honey, no one's fooled by that. We all know your Ma licked you even more than Tom and Boyd combined."  
  
"Well, is it my fault Tom and Boyd never got in any decent scrapes?" Stu demanded. "Even if Brent and I did get licked more'n them, we had more fun than them too."  
  
"Aw, Stu, I didn't mean anything." Scarlett soothed his ruffled feathers. "After all, didn't I get into twice as much trouble as Suellen or Carreen?"  
  
"Most of it was with me and Brent." Stu grinned impishly.  
  
Scarlett laughed with real mirth this time. "Yes, you always got me into some scrape or another!"  
  
"Us! You started half of them!" Stu pointed out, poking her.  
  
Gerald grinned at his laughing daughter. It'd been a long time since he saw her that happy, she'd been moping around for months. So happy and proud was he, that he burst into an off-key rendition of 'The Wearin' o' the Green', to Scarlett's amusement and chagrin.  
  
"Oh Pa, stop!" Scarlett laughed. "You'll frighten the horses with that yowling!"  
  
"Am I hearing me own daughter telling me I can't sing?" Gerald demanded, his eyes twinkling merrily. "I'll not have you tellin' me when I can sing and not sing! Me own voice, so 'tis." He hummed defiantly, but to Scarlett's relief did not start singing again.  
  
Scarlett laughed at him-the adorable darling! Everything was perfect today, Amy was beautiful and Stu was safe, and she was going home!  
  
  
  
The wedding was beautiful. Scarlett had arranged-via Rhett Butler of course- for Carreen to have a white satin dress, and between the six Tarleton women, a complete uniform had been made for Brent.  
  
When Carreen came down the aisle, her face positively aglow with happiness, Scarlett realized with a jolt that her baby sister really was pretty. Not beautiful, but very pretty indeed. She felt a pang of guilt when she thought of all those times that she'd teased the poor girl. She really was in love with Brent. Looking at him, Scarlett realized that it was mutual- with only a small twinge of jealousy. She didn't begrudge Carreen her happiness, but rather envied it.  
  
Later, as she watched Carreen preside over the dinner and party, she wondered if, had she married Ashley, would she be so happy? He'd said-what was it he'd said? She would want all of a man, and he couldn't give it to her? That she wouldn't understand him. Carreen-she understood Brent, she was like Brent. And Pa-oh, what was it he'd said? All these things she'd ignored at the time-oh she had to remember! 'Only when like marries like can there be any happiness.' Yes, that, was it. And she wasn't like Ashley. She knew that, she'd always known that. She would change him, she'd thought. Had she changed Stu one whit since she'd married him? No. Any change in him had come from the war, not her. Could she have changed Ashley? Change what, his very nature? Take away his books and his music and his dream world? What she would have left would be-a shell. An empty shell that would walk and talk like a man, but never be one. Like marries like. She was like Stu. She cared nothing for education and 'culture'. If-oh if she'd married Ashley they would have hated, hated one another! He would long for a person like Melanie, and she would long for someone like herself. And they would have regretted their marriage bitterly, so very bitterly.  
  
She gasped audibly -garnering the attention of a few nearby matrons- as realization finally set in. She did not-could not- love Ashley Wilkes. He did not share her nature, would hate and despise her if ever understood it. Confusion filled her heart. 'What will I do now?' she wondered painfully. 'What is there to live for, if not loving Ashley?'  
  
Her question was not answered that night, but she continued to wonder in the three o'clocks of many following nights, until it nearly drove her mad.  
  
Then, two months after her startling realization came news that changed everything. Once again she was pregnant.  
  
Scarlett stared at Doctor Meade. "That's impossible!" Was her immediate reaction. It had never crossed her mind that she could have more children. After Laurel-it didn't seem right somehow, that she was still able to have children.  
  
Doctor Meade patted her hand gently. "I know it's difficult, with Mr. Tarleton away, but now your little Amy will have a playmate."  
  
Scarlett wanted to scream at him 'she would already have a playmate but she's dead!' but didn't. She just stood numbly and led him to the door. "Thank you, Doctor Meade." She said quietly. The worthy doctor didn't quite understand her melancholy, but he rather liked Scarlett. So he patted her hand and smiled at her in what he believed to be a comforting manner.  
  
"I'm sure Corporal Tarleton will be all right," the good doctor soothed. "Now then. Come see me again in a few weeks alright?"  
  
"Of course." Scarlett replied automatically.  
  
"Good day." He nodded deeply and, picking up his had an coat, left her to her thoughts.  
  
'Another baby. Oh...damn.' Scarlett's eyes widened at this sudden blasphemy and crossed herself. She put a hand to her head and sighed. There wasn't much she could do now. She had another seven months of pain and discomfort, leading up to a wailing infant and another month of confinement. She wanted to cry, to scream, something.  
  
"Scarlett, darling?" Melanie's gentle voice brought her attention to the back parlor door and Melly's sweet worried face. "Is everything alright? Did Doctor Meade say anything?"  
  
Scarlett forced a smile. "I seem to be expecting a child." She replied and dropped her eyes.  
  
Melanie approached slowly then embraced and kissed Scarlett. "How wonderful dearest." She said softly. She stepped back, surprised by the misery in Scarlett's expression. "Oh my darling." Melly took her hands and her eyes filled with sympathetic tears. "I know it won't replace the one you lost, but..."  
  
"Her name was Laurel!"  
  
Melanie started at the harsh tone. "I'm sorry dearest. I-I know her name was Laurel." Scarlett gasped in pain and fairly ran for the safety of her room. Melanie burst into self-reproachful tears and retreated into the back parlor.  
  
Scarlett smiled slightly, reading her husband's most recent letter. He was such a dear, and so very excited. She felt the first stirrings of excitement and fervently wished for a boy. Stu would love a boy. It was with a much lighter heart than she'd had in months that Scarlett left her room in search of her daughter. Perhaps it would not be so horrible, having a new baby to fuss over and show off. After all, with parents such as it had it would have to be beautiful. With this cheering thought Scarlett banished all unpleasantness from her mind-without even a thought to the fighting that continued to rage in Pennsylvania.  
  
When the first rumors of the battle raging in Pennsylvania struck Atlanta they paused. Slowly they stopped what they were doing and crowds near the newspaper and telegraph offices grew larger and more deathly quiet with every day. There was no talking. Occasionally an old man's treble voice begged for news, and instead of inciting the crowd to babbling it only intensified the hush as they heard the oft-repeated: "Nothing on the wires yet from the North except that there's been fighting." The fringe of women on foot and in carriages grew greater and greater, and the heat of the close-packed bodies and dust rising from restless feet were suffocating. The women did not speak, but their pale set faces pleaded with a mute eloquence that was louder than wailing.  
  
Melanie's small, heart-shaped face was dead white and she made not a sound as she sat in Miss Pitty's carriage outside the newspaper office. She had declared she would not move until the lists were out, and she had not, through all the sweltering afternoon hours. Scarlett clasped her hand tightly and tried to control her fear.  
  
There was a movement on the outskirts of the crowd and those on foot gave way as Rhett Butler carefully edged his horse toward Aunt Pitty's carriage. Scarlett thought: He's got courage, coming here at this time when it wouldn't take anything to make this mob tear him to pieces because he isn't in uniform. As he came nearer, she thought she might be the first to rend him. How dare he sit atop his fine horse in a tailored suit, while Stu and Brent and Ashley were fighting-maybe dying-at the front?  
  
"Hello Mrs. Wilkes." He greeted softly. He raised an eyebrow at Scarlett- who was out, even in her obvious pregnancy- and smirked. "Mrs. Tarleton."  
  
"Hello Captain Butler." Melly replied, smiling bravely. Scarlett bit her tongue, she felt if she so much as opened her mouth the hot words in her heart would come bubbling out before all of Atlanta.  
  
"I came to tell you ladies," he said, loud enough for all around to hear, "that I have been to headquarters and the first casualty lists are coming in."  
  
At these words a hum rose and the crowd surged, ready to turn and run down Whitehall Street toward headquarters.  
  
"Don't go," he called, rising in his saddle and holding up his hand. "The lists have been sent to both newspapers and are now being printed. Stay where you are!"  
  
"Oh, Captain Butler," cried Melly, turning to him with tears in her eyes. "How kind of you to come and tell us! When will they be posted?"  
  
"They should be out any minute, Madam. The reports have been in the offices for half an hour now. The major in charge didn't want to let that out until the printing was done, for fear the crowd would wreck the offices trying to get news. Ah! Look!"  
  
The side window of the newspaper office opened and a hand was extended, bearing a sheaf of long narrow galley proofs, smeared with fresh ink and thick with names closely printed. The crowd fought for them, tearing the slips in half, those obtaining them trying to back out through the crowd to read, those behind pushing forward, crying: "Let me through!"  
  
"Hold the reins," said Rhett shortly, swinging to the ground and tossing the bridle to Uncle Peter. In a short while he was back, with half a dozen in his hands. He tossed one to Melanie and distributed the others among the ladies in the nearest carriages, the Misses McLure, Mrs. Meade, Mrs. Merriwether, Mrs. Elsing.  
  
Melanie's hands shook as she scanned down the names, none registering until she reached the Ws. "He's not there." She whispered. She closed her eyes and clutched the list to her. "Oh thank God! Ashley's alive!"  
  
Scarlett spared Melanie not a glance as she tore the list from her hands. "Let me look!" She barked. Melanie started and a look of utter self- reproach crossed her sweet face.  
  
"I'm sorry darling." She said quickly. "I-I'm sure Corporal Tarleton is-"  
  
"He's dead." Scarlett announced dully. She handed the list back to Melanie, her large green eyes glazing over. "Stu and Brent and Tom. They're are all dead."  
  
"Oh my darling..." Melanie wrapped her thin arms around Scarlett's shoulder and pulled her close. "Drive home Uncle Peter." She commanded softly, rubbing Scarlett's shaking back. "Drive us home." 


	4. Going Home

Scarlett stared at her reflection with distaste. The black dress Mrs. Whiting had lent her didn't fit properly, and her pregnant stomach was very visible. Her eyes were red from tears and her hair was twisted into a loose chignon. She looked away from the disturbing image and tucked the last of her immediate belongings into her satchel. She left the room and slowly descended the stairs, swallowing her tears. When she reached the landing Melanie immediately pulled her into a hug.  
  
"Write to me when...when your time comes." Melanie said gently, stepping back. "I promised Corp-I promised I'd stay with you."  
  
Scarlett nodded slightly and patted Melanie's hand. "Of course Melly." She replied with a fake smile. "You can stay for Christmas too." She forced cheer into her voice. "We'll have great fun."  
  
Melanie nodded, tears in her eyes. "Be careful darling." She hugged Scarlett again. "If you need me, write to me. No matter what is happening."  
  
Scarlett handed her bag to Prissy and kissed Melly's tear-stained cheek. "I'm sorry about leaving my trunk here."  
  
"Don't worry dearest. We'll send it along in a few days." Melanie replied softly. "Just take care of yourself, and Amy."  
  
"I will." Scarlett bit her lower lip and picked up Amy. "I'll write to you soon Melly."  
  
"Good-by darling." Melanie smiled gently. "Take care."  
  
"I will. Good-by." Scarlett took a deep breath and hurried out the door to catch the evening train.  
  
Scarlett carried Amy in her arms the entire way, actually slapping Prissy when she tried to take her. "Touch my child again and I'll kill you." She said in a deathly quiet tone. Prissy jumped back, her eyes wide.  
  
"Y-yas'm." She choked out, and wisely didn't say another word the rest of the trip.  
  
Scarlett looked out over the sea of people crowding around the train station, hoping for news. These were not the still crowds of Atlanta, these- her lifelong friends-were pushing and shoving in attempt to get closer, to hear something. She knew the lists were coming in from Atlanta with her-and with that knowledge, realized no one at home knew about Stu. Carreen didn't know about Brent. Scarlett would have to tell her. Fresh tears sprung up behind her veil, and for once she was glad of the traditional heavy crepe widow's weeds.  
  
From behind her she heard a small worried voice call her name and turned to see Carreen, giving her a queer look.  
  
"It is you Scarlett!" She cried aloud. "What-what are you doing home?"  
  
Scarlett laughed shortly. "I'd think it was rather obvious." She softened. "Have the lists come out yet?" She asked quietly. "They were on the train with me, I believe."  
  
"They were?" Carreen's small face was anxious and for the first time Scarlett noticed her rounded stomach. "Oh Scarlett-tell me please, was Brent-"  
  
Scarlett could only nod, overcome with her own pain. "I'm sorry Sissy." She said softly. "Stu-and Tom-too. And Raif, and Joe, and Lafe and...so many others." Carreen's eyes widened with each name and looked close to collapse. "For God's sake Sissy, don't faint!" Scarlett cried fiercely. "I can't stand it if you faint!"  
  
"Carreen!" Scarlett nearly wept at the gentle voice, calling her sister. Ellen appeared on the platform, her skirts rustling softly. "Carreen my dear, you mustn't wander like that." She reprimanded softly. "I was worried."  
  
"Mother!" The strangled cry burst from Scarlett and she fell into Ellen's arms. With shock Ellen looked down at her eldest daughter, in hysterical tears.  
  
"Scarlett! My darling what's happened?" Ellen asked gently, leading her black-haired daughter to a bench along the platform. "My dear, has something happened to-"  
  
Scarlett nodded wordlessly, looking up at her mother in childish knowledge that her mother could fix anything. She could find some way-some way to make it right.  
  
"Oh my dear." Ellen held her gently. "My poor darling."  
  
Carreen had followed them, moving numbly. She sat on Ellen's right side, staring into the crowds blankly.  
  
Scarlett straightened and wiped her tears away. "See to Carreen." She said quietly, her emotions spent. "It will hit her in a moment."  
  
Ellen turned her dark eyes to her youngest, her heart aching for her girls, as well as for Beatrice Tarleton. "Oh Carreen." She said softly. "Come now, let's get you girls home." Gently she led them to carriage and bid them sit inside, hoping to get Carreen safely to Tara before the news really struck her. "I'll find Mr. O'Hara." She said quietly, returning to the pushing crows with a rustle of stiff skirts.  
  
Carreen smiled stiffly at Scarlett and looked down at Amy, who had followed them, clutching her mother's skirts. "She's-lovely." Carreen said chokingly. "Absolutely perfect." With equal recognition she noted Scarlett's obvious pregnancy. "I hope-I hope-" She couldn't finish the sentence, instead retreating to the corner of the carriage and sobbing into the soft lining.  
  
Scarlett watched her, knowing she should offer comfort. But she found she had none, her heart was sore and drained of all feeling. So she looked away, and pulled Amy into her lap. She felt a curious sense of being lost, as if the world had been turned upside down and she had no way to right it. The way she had felt the day she realized she didn't love Ashley, as though she'd lost something sweet and beautiful, a reason for living.  
  
In the back of her mind she dimly registered her parents entering the carriage and the drive to Tara, but the only person that garnered her full attention was Amy, when she woke up for a few moments during the trip. Scarlett absolutely refused to let her child out of her arms, and even when they arrived at Tara she carried the little girl into the house and up to her old bedroom.  
  
As she looked around her childhood room, Scarlett felt no attachment, no comfort at being home as she had always felt at Tara. Amy climbed onto her large soft bed and returned to slumber, her eighteen-month-old mind undisturbed by her mother's torment.  
  
There was a photograph on the dresser, of Scarlett's wedding day. Despite his grim expression, Stu looked happy. Her lungs suddenly seemed too small, she couldn't breathe properly. Quickly she put the picture frame face-down on the bureau, she would scream if she had to look at it a second longer. Oh, she wished she could cry, do anything to ease the iron fingers digging into her throat.  
  
Her knees went weak and darkness claimed her. 


	5. Moving Forward

Yes I know this has been a ridiculously long time coming, but forgive me! I had some serious writers block and wasn't really sure where I was going with it. Now I think I have a better idea! So here's chapter 5!

Slowly her eyes fluttered open, her bristly black lashes startling against pale skin. A moment of panic seized her before she recognized her room. Her tired eyes focused on the tiny body curled beside her on the bed. A rare maternal smile graced her face as she softly stroked her daughter's cheek. The little girl yawned widely and her big green eyes opened to meet her mother's.

"Hullo," Amy yawned again and snuggled into her mother's embrace.

"Hello baby," Scarlett's eyes left her daughter's face and landed on the bedside clock. "You have to get up, its time for supper."

"Tired," Amy mumbled.

"I know, but you have to eat," A sudden rumbling in her stomach added that Amy wasn't the only one in need of sustenance. She smiled and climbed off the large bed.

Amy sat up and yawned yet again before reaching out for her mother. "Carry," She demanded.

Scarlett smiled slightly and nodded. "Alright, but you have to get dressed first," She looked down at herself with a start, realizing she was also somehow in her nightdress. "Hmm, so do I it appears," She reached out a hand to her toddler child and held her off the bed. She went to the door and called softly for Mammy. A few moments later the lumbering old servant appeared, watching Scarlett with sympathetic eyes. Scarlett refused the sympathy and snapped at the old woman to help her dress. She pushed all thoughts of Stu out of her mind. If she thought of it, it would drive her mad.

As soon as she was dressed, Scarlett met her family in the dining room. Carreen wasn't there, but that was to be expected. Scarlett assumed she was at Fairhill, sharing her grief with the Tarletons. Again, Scarlett pushed such thoughts from her mind. She smiled as cheerily as she could at her family before taking her seat.

"Scarlett, dear, how are you?" Ellen asked gently, touching her eldest daughter's hand softly.

Scarlett forced a smile. "I'm alright Mother," she replied. "You needn't worry."

"Now...Katie, I...wanted to tell you..." Gerald paused and tried to gather his thoughts. Conversations of this sort were not his forte.

"It's alright Pa," Scarlett patted his hand. "I know what you're trying to say. But I'm fine, really." Her smile remained in place, but she didn't meet anyone's eyes.

Suellen glared at her. She had been sympathetic when Scarlett came home, looking as if she'd had her heart ripped out, but now she was showing her true colors. She hadn't loved Stu when she married him, and apparently she hadn't loved him when he died. Why Scarlett was the favored daughter she would never understand.

Scarlett was well aware of the looks she was receiving from her sister, but decided to ignore them rather than start a fight. She smiled across the table at her little daughter and was pleased to note that for once Prissy seemed able to take care of the rather stubborn child.

Ellen reached for her daughter's hand and squeezed it gently. "You will be alright," She said firmly. "You're very strong my dear."

Scarlett smiled at her mother. "Thank you Mother," she replied quietly. No matter what happened to the rest of the world, Ellen would be able to soften the pain with just a few words in her gentle voice.

"Yes, nothing ever bothers Scarlett for long," Suellen said cattily. "She'll probably be looking for another husband soon enough."

"Suellen!" Ellen rebuked; startled to hear such animosity from one of her children. "How unkind of you. Your sisters have suffered a great loss."

Suellen glared blackly at her elder sister but managed to mutter an insincere apology.

"I'm not so very hungry Mother," Scarlett said suddenly, a lump forming in her throat. "I'll be in my room. Goodnight Mother, Pa. Sue," The last was said with venom as she pushed her chair back from the table. She swept up to her bedroom with as much dignity as she could muster, then dropped the façade and threw herself on the bed, great sobs racking her small body.

The days bled together after that. There was no excitement at Tara. No parties, no dancing, not even any hospital work to end the monotony. Her mother was so busy Scarlett found herself alone with Amy or visiting Fairhill most days. Weeks passed, and soon Scarlett could not even visit Carreen anymore.

November came soon enough, and with it came Melanie Wilkes. Her gentle presence and soft hands were a soothing balm in the last uncomfortable days of Scarlett's confinement. And by the 16th, there were three new additions to the O'Hara/Tarleton family. Carreen's redheaded son Brenton James and Scarlett's tiny blue-eyed, black-haired boy Stuart Matthew were born not fifteen minutes apart, November 16th, 1863.

The next two weeks were spent in hushed silence for both plantations. The loss of either child would kill the mother, and everyone knew it. After the third week, things began to slowly relax around the homes. Scarlett, who had had yet another scandalously easy birth, was up and about mere hours after having her child.

Carreen, on the other hand, was still confined to her bedroom on doctor's orders. Though not ill, she didn't seem to be regaining her strength as she ought. The doctor they'd been forced to seek out from Jonesboro assured them that she would probably recover if her will to live was strong.

It was those words that caused Ellen O'Hara sleepless nights and shared worry with Beatrice Tarleton. For Carreen's will had never been strong in anything but her love for Brent.

However, Scarlett paid little heed to her sister's health. Her world was caught up in the tiny baby residing across the hall, and the little girl that petulantly demanded her attention at every waking moment. And what enjoyment she could not get from Amy and Matthew, she found in Melanie's company. She had within her a store of information about the goings-on of Atlanta, for of course everyone confided in Melanie Wilkes; and she in turn told Scarlett everything she knew, desperately trying to keep her dear friend's spirit up...just in case.

Christmas came and brought furloughs with it, many of the remaining County boys heading home to their families - Ashley included. Scarlett wondered idly what she would feel upon seeing Ashley again, but Scarlett had never been one for abstract thought, and recent events had taught her not to dwell on the 'what ifs' of life. You could never tell when life would come out of nowhere and destroy everything you had built.

The holidays passed with good cheer and happy remembrances - everyone tacitly ignoring the missing members of their circle. The youngest Tarletons were praised sky-high, everyone was sure that Amy would be as beautiful as her mother, and the boys were prophesized as the next Presidents of the Confederacy - or at least the best horsemen in the County. Scarlett smiled at the attention and cried herself to sleep every night, but she always returned to Twelve Oaks - the center of the celebration - with all the charm and cheer she possessed. She would always love her boys, her childhood beaux and lifelong friends. She would never feel the same as she had for Ashley, but…they were still a part of her. They had seen her change through her entire life, and the Fontaine boys had never loved her. Somehow, that made it easier to talk to them now, when so many things had changed.

Then, they were gone again and life had soon returned to its normal pace. Scarlett was restless but had no outlet for her energy. Shortly after the New Year letters from Aunt Pittypat began arriving, begging their return to Atlanta. She was lonely and frightened, and Melanie set her mind to returning - until it was revealed that she was, well, in the family way. The County people would hear nothing of her leaving for Atlanta after that - even Scarlett was perfectly happy leaving Melanie in the country. But Melanie would not be pacified until someone had promised to keep dear Aunt Pitty company - and it was only natural that it be Scarlett to fill the position.

In just a few weeks Scarlett had made her return to Atlanta, only to find she was in a place so different from the one she had left that it was almost unrecognizable. Hundreds of people from the conquered cities had fled to Atlanta, filling each house to the breaking point. Wounded soldiers could no longer be held in the hospital, and had spread so that there more 'hospitals' then there were doctors.

Aunt Pitty's house was occupied by half a dozen others, and had Scarlett not brought her children with her, she would surely have been forced to share her room with one of the refugees. As it was Prissy sleeping in their room, forced to make herself a pallet on the floor beside the baby's cradle.

The hustle and bustle of the city was distracting, and as it had done almost two years earlier, the excitement pushed all thoughts of pain out of Scarlett's mind. She wasn't one to dwell on unhappy thoughts when she could avoid them, and Atlanta was filled with any number of diversions. Of course, she could only really attend the things that were so disgusting or boring she thought she'd go mad from it. She could work in the hospital and tear bandages with the old ladies, but she was barred from the dances and parties - which as the weeks passed were becoming less and less frequent. Scarlett - along with the rest of the city - was very rapidly realizing that Atlanta was no longer a safe place to be. The refugees were beginning to move farther south, taking many Atlanta residents with them.

One of the few citizens who did not seem keen on leaving the city was the ever roguish Rhett Butler. He in fact seemed to get a perverse joy from seeing the city fall.

Scarlett had found herself in his company more often than not in the last days of summer, and not entirely certain of why. He called on her often, knowing somehow whenever she was to be found away from the hospital - which Scarlett often thought of as her personal hell. She tried to be kind to the soldiers, truly she did, but she was not a nurse at heart and couldn't bear the sights or smells of the sickroom. Rhett also knew this, and mocked her often for her misery.

It had occurred to Scarlett that Rhett might love her, but she generally dismissed the idea. Rhett was an enigma, but he was frankly too mean for her to imagine he loved her. She rather believed he found her an amusing joke, a fact that infuriated her on the rare occasions she allowed herself to think it. She hated being the object of ridicule - especially Rhett's. He had a distinct ability to make her feel a fool whenever he was in her presence…and he seemed to gain no end of entertainment from the game.

Scarlett wished she could so easily entertain herself in the city that had, for her, quickly lost its sparkle. She found herself longing for Tara, for the letters from her mother which were becoming increasingly rare. When Aunt Pittypat decided to join the refugees heading south, Scarlett's mind was made up. She would leave too – but she was headed north, to Tara.


End file.
